


No Better Place to Go

by Hammocker



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Cute, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied Relationships, Little Peter, Pre-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker
Summary: It had been almost a week since they'd picked up Peter and Yondu was having trouble deciding what to do with the kid. He knew what he couldn't do, but that didn't make the decision any easier.





	No Better Place to Go

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on an AU with Yondu, Kraglin and Peter being a family without the sci-fi aspect, but it would be a crime for me not to write some canon-based little Peter and Yondu father-son stuff. 
> 
> This could easily be a G were it not for Yondu's occasionally colorful vocabulary. This is pure fluff, people.

It had been several days since Yondu had picked Peter up from Terra. The kid screamed and struggled and fought hard, leaving a couple of his crew - mostly Kraglin really - with bite marks and bruises. But, like all creatures, he’d come around when he got hungry. Presently, the two of them were sat at a table in Yondu’s quarters. Peter was chowing down on some bril organs while Yondu stared off to the side across from him. Skinny kid like him needed the protein.

He’d wanted to have Kraglin there too, but worried that it might be too much, Kraglin being the joker who started the “we’s gonna eat you” thing. That incident had been six days back and now Peter had been around for about a Xandar-standard week. Seven days since he’d abducted Peter. They’d been halfway across the galaxy in a real short amount of time, but Yondu wasn’t sure how to proceed anymore.

Yondu knew what he couldn’t do: he couldn’t take Peter to his father. That guy was- well, he was a jackass, put lightly. It wasn’t an option. The question now was what needed to happen to Peter?

There was the possibility of taking him home. Give him some sleeping juice and let him think it was a bad dream, let him have a normal life. But Ego might hire someone colder than Yondu to take Peter away again. The kid wasn’t safe back there, and Yondu couldn’t stand the idea of him being carted off by someone else to who-knew-what end.

He could pass Peter off onto someone better suited to child rearing. Maybe take him to a Xandarian orphanage, somewhere with decent security, see about getting him some proper parents. But Peter wasn’t exactly an orphan and Yondu wasn’t exactly appreciated on Xandarian turf. Not to mention that it'd be real hard to explain it to the crew.

No, the only way this kid was gonna be safe now was with Yondu. He didn’t need to know about his dad, just that someone hired Yondu to pick him up and Yondu wasn’t gonna deliver him. Kid his age, he probably wouldn’t question it too much. Yondu would have to keep his crew at bay, keep Peter close. Nothing personal, just the right thing to do here. The only thing to be done.

Peter was down to the juice in his dish, and had started sneaking glances up at Yondu. Not that Yondu wasn’t used to being looked at funny, but he preferred people either speak their mind or piss off. Seeing as the latter wasn’t an option here...

“You got somethin’ to say, say it,” Yondu told Peter, meeting his eyes. “I don’t bite. Unlike some. Sure ain’t interested in eatin’ you.”

Peter looked away, but he wasn’t scrambling to leave like he had been for a while. No complaints about that. He mumbled something after a short wait.

“I’m- I’m starting to think all’a this is real.”

“Startin’?” Yondu echoed. “Been real as real can be most’a my life.”

“Are we- we’re really in a space ship?”

Yondu laughed at the kid’s choice of words. It had been a long, long while since he’d heard someone call it that.

“S’pose that’s a way’a callin’ her, sure,” he said with a shrug.

“Looks more like some factory t’me,” Peter said. “All them pipes.”

“Fact’ry?” Yondu said, squinting one eye at him. “Now whassat supposed t’mean?”

“I dunno. Been in factories ‘n they’re brown and dirty and there’s lots of pipes just like here.”

“She ain’t dirty!” Yondu insisted. “The stains add character, nothin’ dirty about it. And she sure ain't a fact’ry vessel.”

From the twist in his lip, Peter was none too convinced.

“Don't look like a ship,” he said.

“Don’t it now?” Yondu asked, leaning forward and cocking his brow. “Well, now’s a good time to come see.”

He stood up without another word and sauntered towards the door, giving Peter plenty of time to follow.

“See what?” Peter asked as he got up and trotted after Yondu.

Yondu led the way through the ship’s halls and up a couple flights of steps, occasionally passing by piles of sleeping Ravagers. Why anyone would willingly choose to sleep all over everyone else was beyond Yondu. There was more than enough space for them all to have plenty of elbow room, but only a few of them took advantage of that. Habits were tough to break, Yondu figured.

His destination was the master cockpit, way up on the ship’s hull. Peter kept up surprisingly well, spurred on seemingly by pure curiosity.

“What do you need so many people for?” he'd ask as they passed one of the piles.

“Pilotin’ a fleet’a little ships and one really big one,” Yondu would answer just as easily.

“What’re all the pipes for anyhow?”

“Oxygen recycling and plumbing, mostly.”

“Why’re you blue?”

“Why’re you pink? I’m a Centaurian, we’re all that way.”

To his surprise, Yondu didn’t mind the questions. He was used to stupid questions from his crew, used to smacking them for it, but Peter’s questions weren’t stupid. They were simple and usually only needed a simple answer, but he was asking from a place of not knowing instead of from his head being full of rocks.

As he stepped up into the cockpit at last, Yondu went straight up to the viewing port in front.

“C’mere, kid, have a look-see,” he said, waving Peter towards it.

Peter obliged, albeit, more sluggishly than before. Almost like he didn’t want to let go of the idea that this was just some factory back on his home planet. As he stepped up to the glass, though, his face lit up with a hundred mixed emotions. First his eyes went wide, then they narrowed again as he worked to process everything. He put his face right up against the window, blinking slowly. He took in the endless stars and systems and the gas giant, HR-4, sitting not too far from them. It was a good time for Yondu to take it in as well; he never had time for idle sight-seeing anymore.

“That- that can’t be real,” Peter stuttered. “It’s gotta be a- a projection.”

“‘Fraid it’s as real as you or me,” Yondu said, shrugging. “Welcome to the galaxy.”

Peter tilted his head this way and that, like he was looking for something. Yondu leaned forward a bit, following Peter’s eyes. Whatever the boy was after, Yondu certainly wasn’t seeing anything out of place.

When Peter didn’t find whatever it was, he flashed Yondu a bug-eyed stare. His breathing ramped up, and he gave a few pathetic whimpers as he tried to form words. Yondu said nothing, just kept an eye one Peter as he waited.

“How- how far’d we go from Earth?” Peter finally asked. “I don’t see it anywhere.”

“‘Course you don’t see it, we been through a couple leaps,” Yondu said, matter-of-fact and keeping any condescension out of his tone. “Prob’ly about a hundred, two hundred light years if you didn’t wanna use the jumps.”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat and he took a few shaky steps back. He stumbled after the third and Yondu had to reach to catch him.

“Whoa there, kid,” he said, holding Peter up by the center of his back.

“Why’d you take me away at all?!” Peter shrilled.

He made to shove Yondu’s arm away and retreat, but only ended up stumbling to the side. Once more, Yondu caught him, this time by grasping the back of his shirt. It would have been cute anywhere else; Yondu still remembered having trouble with his center of mass at Peter’s age. His upbringing hadn’t helped that.

“‘Cause someone was offerin’ a healthy sum for you,” Yondu explained as he pulled Peter back up to his feet. “But I ain’t takin’ you to him, and it ain’t safe to take you back home no more.”

“Why?!” Peter demanded, hopping around to face him.

“‘Cause things’re complicated, kid,” Yondu sighed, taking up a more stern tone. “Y’think you’re in a bad spot now? You’d be a hell of a lot worse off anywhere else.”

Still, Peter shook with nervous anger and kept up on a tirade.

“You can’t just do that! I got people back there, I got family, I got my-”

Peter stopped mid-sentence. The anger stayed on his face, but it was like he suddenly had no words to put it in.

“I- I don’t want to go back,” he said, voice muted.

The words hung in the air, a bizarre mixture of premature wisdom, childish pettiness, and pain. Too much pain for someone his age, pain Yondu wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Yet Peter’s fear seemed to melt away with his words. He was frowning something awful, but he wasn’t scared or angry. It was a kind of numbness that Yondu recognized from too many experiences.

“What’s- what’s a jump?” Peter asked. He really looked at Yondu this time, made proper eye contact, like he hadn’t truly been seeing before.

Part of Yondu wanted to press Peter. The rest of him knew that now wasn’t the time. In fact, there might never be a time to talk about what Peter was going through. That wasn’t what he needed.

“Think someone smarter’n me might call it a wormhole,” he said, stepping back up towards the window. “You go in it one place, spits you out a couple parsecs down the way. Makes gettin’ from one system to another a hell of a lot faster.”

Peter followed him, gaze alternating from staring outside to looking up at Yondu. “Is that like beaming?”

“Dunno, whassat?”

“It’s a thing where you get teleported up from planets to a ship in a beam of light. That’s what they always do in Star Trek.”

“Well, I don’t know nothin’ about no beams. We always done extraction the old fashioned way, with little ships.” It was Yondu’s turn to give Peter a quizzical look. “The hell’s a “Star Trek”?”

Peter gaped up at Yondu like he was all kinds of crazy. As soon as it came, though, the expression disappeared for a forced indifference.

“It’s a show about space and final frontiers and aliens.” Peter hesitated before quickly adding. “Y’know, nerd stuff. Captain Kirk and his crew go out and explore planets and beat up lizard monsters and a lot of episodes he gets green girl aliens.”

Yondu didn’t know precisely what Peter meant by “a show” but the idea sure sounded familiar. He had to smile.

“Mm, I’d know a few things about that,” he said. “Chased my fair share’a green-skinned ladies. ‘fore I settled anyhow. K’rithian lady bit me somethin’ awful once, left a nasty scar.”

“Like I bit that other guy?”

Yondu half-smiled and nodded at the suggestion. “Mhm, ain’t too far off.”

Peter’s brow scrunched before he asked, “Whaddya mean “settled”?”

“You’ll find out sooner than later, kid, I guarantee,” Yondu promised. It wasn’t as though his romantic endeavors were particularly hard to see. Chances were, Peter would pick up in the first couple weeks.

Peter paused again, those wheels in his head a-turning. He was bright, this little kid. Yondu could practically see the thought etched onto his face. It wasn’t much like any of his crew or even Yondu himself. Something told Yondu that he’d be good to have around sooner or later.

“What’s your name?” Peter finally asked.

“I ain’t told you? Yondu Udonta.”

“Sure sounds like an alien name,” Peter said, gnawing at his bottom lip.

“”Peter Quill” don’t sound too ordinary t’me, but y’ain’t heard nothin’ from me.”

“How’d you get to be a captain?” Peter asked, eyes so damn wide and curious that it was gonna kill Yondu. 

Yondu hummed at the question. “Tha’s a long story, Peter.”

“But those are the best ones!” Peter grabbed insistently at his coat. “C’mon, I can handle it.”

Yondu wasn’t too sure about that. Not a whole lot of people knew where he’d come from or where he’d been, and Yondu liked it that way. But Peter was young and curious and he’d probably never shut up if Yondu didn’t spill. Might as well give him something.

“The first time I looked outta one’a these windows, I was-”

Yondu stopped himself. Peter probably didn’t need to know the specifics of the scum of the Kree Empire quite yet.

“You were what?” Peter said, nudging him.

“Well, I weren’t as free as I am now,” he corrected. “Didn’t have a ship’a my own, but I was part of a crew of sorts.”

“Why weren’t you free?”

Yondu clicked his tongue with thought. “Some pretty bad sorts had me trapped in their service. Taught me to fly, to shoot, but only when they told me to. Couldn’t go out and travel then, but the thought’a it kept me going. Knowing that a galaxy were out there waitin’ t’be seen.”

He braced one hand against the glass, the space between his fingers and thumb outlining that gas giant. He’d always wanted to send a probe down to one of those, and see what they really looked like.

“Then my ship gets taken down, most’a the crew died, and I get scooped up by some guy calling himself a “Ravager.” Plunderers, thieves, that kinda thing. Work my way up from cabin boy to first mate, learn what being a Ravager means.” Yondu grinned to himself at the memories. “Soon enough, I got my own ship, my own crew, and I’m running around the galaxy robbin’ trade ships blind, huntin’ treasure, and makin’ a steady profit.”

When he finally looked at Peter again, he found the kid staring up at him with shining, reverent eyes. Like Yondu was the coolest guy he’d ever seen. It shocked him initially; Yondu hadn’t ever been looked at that way. People hated him, people liked him, but he’d never seen such earnest admiration from anyone. Maybe it was a kid thing. Either way, Yondu had to admit to himself that it felt pretty good.

“You’re a real space pirate!” he cried.

“Everything’s real ‘round here, y’know,” Yondu said, rolling his eyes. “‘Cept maybe Ghrath’s eye. And Keit’s girlfriend.”

“Can I be a space pirate?”

“Don’t see why you couldn’t. It ain’t all too hard once you know how it’s done.”

“Show me how!” Peter demanded. “I want to see the galaxy, I want to fly a ship, I want to be like you!”

Peter’s final statement was as flattering as it was terrifying for Yondu. Not even a week in and this kid was saying stuff like that? Yondu had never seen himself as any kind of role model, but Peter didn’t have a lot of options.

“You sure about that?” he asked, raising his brow.

“Why wouldn’t I be? That’s gotta be the best thing in the world to be!”

“Don’t know about that. ‘Lotta people’ll hate you for this kinda stuff.”

“Why do you care?” Peter asked, that childish part of him coming to the forefront.

“I don’t, not for my sake, but I got people to look after,” he snapped. “You try gettin’ six hundred idiots to go where they need to be so they don’t get theirselves killed. ‘S hard enough gettin’ one to do shit that needs t’be done.”

The more Yondu said, the more deflated Peter looked. He went from uncontained excitement back down to depressed in the space of a minute. Yondu swallowed thickly as that realization dawned upon him.

“You sound like my mom,” Peter mumbled, putting his forehead up against the glass. “Sometimes she yelled 'cause she was scared for me. And she liked being around people.”

Yondu sighed at the reminder of what he’d plucked Peter out of. He was young and impulsive and childish, but that didn’t make the pain any less real and Yondu didn’t need to rub salt in. Words weren’t gonna heal any wounds, so Yondu decided on a different approach.

Yondu glanced around the cockpit and listened for a moment. No one had wandered in and he didn’t hear anyone moving around nearby. Perfect. He reached into his jacket to rummage in his pockets.

It took a while of going through his little knick-knacks and keepsakes to find what he was looking for: Skoresy’s. Sweet-savory candy he’d acquired on his last big job before Peter. He pulled out the little packet and pushed it in front of Peter’s face.

Peter turned his attention to it, but his eyes immediate turned suspicious.

“Whassat?” he asked, taking the packet despite his expression.

“It’s food and it’s good, open it.”

Peter did as he was told. He unfolded it from where Yondu had opened it weeks earlier. He stared inside of it for a moment, squinting at the red-brown swirls inside. Sooner than later, though, he took one and popped it into his mouth.

He paused for a moment, then he gave a single chew, his face contorting like he was trying to work out what he was experiencing.

“Issat- caramel?” Peter asked, his eyes lighting up despite everything.

“Toldja it was good,” Yondu said, half-smiling down at him.

Peter made a noncommittal mumble, and shoved another in his mouth, face still a little sober, like he had a lot on his mind. Even a good disaccharide wasn’t gonna make his troubles go away.

“You’re gonna be alright, Peter,” Yondu said. “The hurt don’t last. We’ll getcha in a better place, tha’s a promise.”

Just wish it didn’t need to be like this, Yondu added silently. He didn’t take any pride in whisking away some poor kid who only just lost his mom. Yondu was a lot of things, most of them not good, but he was not a spiteful man.

Peter said nothing for a long while. He kept eating the candies, but before too long, he wrapped them back up and made to hand the bag back to Yondu.

“Naw, you keep that,” Yondu said. “Never know when you’ll need’em.”

Peter shoved them into his pocket and kept up the silent treatment. Yondu wasn’t about to break the silence himself; no use pushing Peter when he wasn’t ready to be pushed. Yondu was ready to call it a day when he finally spoke up again.

“Mom used to call me Star Lord. Never knew what she meant,” Peter said. “You think this is what she meant? That I should be out here?”

“Maybe she did,” Yondu said, despite his doubts on the matter. “Didn’t know the woman, but sure sounds like she were sensible enough. You was lucky to have her.”

As Peter tilted his head up again, his eyes were full of a mixture of hurt and trust. He was looking at Yondu like he really believed what he was saying. Like things might just be okay. Again, a shock ran through Yondu, having never been looked at quite that way in his life. Yondu couldn’t betray that kind of trust, no matter how tentative or temporary it may have been.

“C’mon, kid, we oughta get you settled,” he said, turning to head back down.

“Can- could I get a room with a window?” Peter asked as he trailed after Yondu for the second time.

Yondu stopped for a moment, allowing Peter to catch up with him. He let himself look down at Peter and really see him. See how small he was and how much room he had to grow into this life. Peter’s mind was still squishy at his age, still capable of switching from depression to excitement at the drop of a hat. Kid was gonna adjust fine. He reached down to pat Peter’s head.

“Yeah,” he said with a slow nod, smiling down at Peter. “Think we can arrange somethin’.”

Peter’s face lit up and he mirrored Yondu’s smile right back at him. Yondu didn’t understand it, but he felt something flicker inside of him seeing that. Knowing that he’d given Peter that. Yondu thought about Peter’s adjustment, but it suddenly struck him that he was going to have to adjust too. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Guardians 2 destroyed me. What you're reading is the pieces being picked up to the best of my abilities.
> 
> You know what I find funny? Both Peter's mom and Yondu have fairly similar accents, and Peter has a bit of an accent as a child, but he grows up and has no such accent. Are you hiding an accent, Peter?


End file.
